Page 48 of Auctioned To Be Mine

It worked in theory. Whether it worked in practice depended entirely on execution.

“Tell me about the foundation,” I said. “What’s it called, how is it structured, how many people does it serve annually?”

He pulled out his phone and slid it across the table. There was a website pulled up. I scanned it while he talked. It was real and I really liked what they were doing. We could definitely use something like that in LA.

I scrolled through the website. There were photos of kids lined up at food pantries, smiling teachers holding bags of groceries, a grandmother with her hands clasped together looking relieved. The kind of images that made people want to open their wallets.

I handed the phone back to him. “Okay,” I said.

He looked up. “Okay?”

“I mean it’s viable. It’s actually more than viable.” I reached for the last piece of salmon and ate it while I thought through the logistics. “The key is making sure neither element overshadows the other. The charity can’t feel like a footnote to the party, and the party can’t feel like a hostage situation where people are guilted into donating before they’re allowed to look at the dresses.” I picked up a napkin and wiped my fingers. “It has to feel organic. Like both things belong in the same room.”

“Can you make that happen?”

I looked at him across the table. “We can talk through some ideas. That’s all I’m committing to right now. I have a job, Callum. A full-time one. I can’t just go moonlighting as an event planner for a fashion house.”

“I’m asking you to consult. Share your expertise. Help me make sure the charitable component is handled properly and doesn’t just feel like a PR stunt.”

“There’s a fine line between those two things.”

“Which is exactly why I need someone who knows the difference.”

I did know the difference. That was the problem. He was appealing directly to the part of me that couldn’t walk away from something worth doing. He probably knew that too.

The breakroom door swung open. Betty looked from me to Callum. The surprise on her face said it all. “Am I interrupting something?” she asked.

I opened my mouth but I had no words. I didn’t know what to say.

Callum got to his feet. “Callum Blackwell. You must be Betty. We never got a chance to properly meet at the auction.” He shook her hand and flashed a charming smile. “Victoria speaks very highly of you.”

Betty shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure,” she said, her voice pleasantly neutral. “What brings you by?”

“I’m hoping to borrow a little of Victoria’s expertise,” he said. “Just a little consulting.”

Betty looked at me. I shrugged.

Callum nodded at me. “I’ll be in touch.”

And then he was gone. He left behind the rest of the sushi. Betty watched him go and then took the seat he just vacated. “Tell me everything.”

17

CALLUM

The last worker rolled out the door just after five. I stood in the middle of the showroom listening to the silence settle around me. It had been a wild day. A lot of work had been done. We were so close to things being finished.

I turned in a slow circle in the center of the room and let myself feel it for a moment. This was actually happening. When my cousins had asked me to oversee this project for the, I honestly thought it was too big. Too ambitious. But now that I was standing in the center of it, the vision was coming to life.

My phone buzzed. I pulled it out and smiled at the screen.

Victoria: Outside. The door locked?

I crossed the floor and unlocked the front door. Victoria was standing on the sidewalk in jeans and a soft gray sweater, her wild hair pulled up in a loose knot with several curls making a break for it around her face. She was carrying a canvas tote bag over one shoulder.

“You found it,” I said.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been in this area, but not that long.” She stepped past me into the store and stopped walking almost immediately. Her head turned slowly, taking in the full sweep of the space. “Oh wow.”